Don't Forget To Remember Me
by flawsinscience
Summary: Addeck fic. Various storylines. could contain character death. Set in future. Way past prom.


Title: Don't Forget To Remember Me

Part: 1

Subtitle: You're Everything.

Pairing: Addeck. With other characters included.

Disclaimer: I own no one as of yet. Shonda does. Damn her

You're Everything

I wana give back what you've givin' to me  
And I wanna witness all of your dreams  
Now that you've shown me who I really am  
I wanna be more then just a man

I wanna be the wind that fills your sails  
And be the hand that lifts your veil  
And be the moon that moves your tide  
The sun coming up in your eyes  
Be the wheels that never rust  
And be the spark that lights you up

You're Everything Keith Urban

A hand grasping the bedclothes strewn into the vague shape of a frail person makes the offer of a final trip. The one he doesn't want to make, but knows that without it the ache of missing it will destroy him more. Offering a hand the symbolises the love that has overcome them to strengthen the foundations that keep people together, he waits for her to muster the strength to sit up, reaching for the glass of water that sits at her side.

A quick sip to stave the thirst that constantly sits on her lips she lets her scrawny legs fall onto the floor, an unstoppable grunt as she stands up makes him realise her fight is slowly drifting, she's had as much grace as they could give her before the final assault. The drugs have caused her to fade so poignantly before his eyes, drifting into a sea even he is not strong enough to rescue her from.

Gently tying the scarf to her balding head he smiles as she asses his work in the mirror, wig's were never an option, embrace the freedom, take the blow with grace was her philosophy. See it as a terrible thing to carve our soul to shreds and she'd never had made it this far. They both knew that.

"It's cold out, you'll need something warm," he lifts her thick fur coat from the coat stand, threading it over her tiny arms, watching her with intense fascination as she did the buttons up, slowing as they came over her chest, the pain watering her eyes as she added the scarf round her neck and gloves to her hands.

Linking arms like they always did as a younger couple the stroll to the car takes what seems like an eternity yet only lasts two minutes. "Will you manage?" he asks the question without realising that his help will immediately be denied, relying on others was never her strong point. It never had to be until now. 

Headlights fighting the dark road stung on her sunken eyes as she fought the sleep that willed over her, stay awake, for him, let him know that it'll all work out fine whatever the final outcome. He gives her the reassuring smiles she needs, the pain that is to come, the uncertainty of her survival make him weary to tell her it will all be ok, no self respecting doctor makes promises they cannot keep. Letting a hand drop on her bony thigh they scrabble their hands together, fingers intertwined, not letting go until they reach it. The place they both love dearly, a last jaunt before she goes to the hospital. No longer a morning's means of getting to work, the boat symbolises more to them.

"After you," he gestures as the cross the foot bridge, always behind her in case she suddenly gives up, making sure she will always have love to hold her together. He grasps the coffee constantly clamped to his hand. A double mocha latte, extra espresso if he's been working all night, smiling she takes his hands the coffee cup giving them warmth against the winter chill. Yearning for her own mug she knows the she can't afford to ruin any chance for her to have this moment a hundred times over. 

"I love you," he begins to choke as she reaches up to give him a kiss, the taste of the coffee causing a smile to purse her lips apart, he lets her hands wander into the warmth of his coat, despite gloves he can tell she's still cold, her circulation is shot to pieces, he knows why all to clearly.

"You need to keep fighting, for me," she bows her head giving him the seal of approval he desperately needs to find strength to last the day out. "I won't ever forget you, if…" she shakes her head instantly, risks being risks nothing is a forgone conclusion but she hates him speaking like this, dealing in if's buts and maybe's.

"You can tell me that tomorrow evening," she longs for the time they won't speak properly to be a few hours but she knows if it all works out, she'll be out for a good few days. It's a price they both must pay. It seems all too sudden an end to their moment of blissful ignorance as they return to the car, sticking to the speed limit the entire way back to the hospital as if to suggest that it'll make it all go away.

"You ready?" he cranks the hand brake into place and turns the ignition off. Turning to face her he slowly traces the outline of her face, imprinting it in his mind, thinking of every possible outcome, wishing for none but the one they've been working towards for nearly a year.

"As I'll ever be," he nods and gets out of the car, dashing round to open her door as she lets her boot covered foot alight the slightly icy ground, cocooning her in a hug as they walk towards the hospital each can feel the rigid fear suddenly overcoming them.

"It's right this way," every member of staff they've come across jumping nervously at the faintest command, the room the best in the hospital, the privacy as much as they demand, the nurses efficiently preparing for what is to come. A sudden knock at the door interrupts them as he sits on the chair, gently folding her clothes into a neat pile.

"Addy, I'd love to say it's a pleasure," she smiles politely at him, dropping her hand over the edge of the bed, grasping for it as scans are produced from a brown envelope she's handled day in, day out since the beginning of her career. But now it seems all too alien. "You know what's happening today, Burke and I will work together to remove the tumour." She nods slowly her squeeze on his hand constricting further. "You've been relatively well recently, nothing I should be aware of?"

"Apart from several months of intensive chemotherapy and the associated side effects…." He nervously chuckles at her sarcasm, slightly pleased that she feels well enough to put him in his place, having known her for many years he can tell she's avoiding things she is unable to deal with. He would too.

"Yes well, you know as much as I do today isn't going to be easy," smiling she furiously wipes away a tear gracing her cheek, "I'll leave you guys to it, I'll send an intern along to get you ready in a bit."

"Bailey, please Richard, I don't want anyone else involved, send Miranda in," he nods, leaving the room swiftly, closing the door behind him. Knowing they were alone he pulled down the side of the bed and hoped in beside her, pulling her in close her fragility was almost too much to bear, creaking bones, thin, tissue paper skin. Placing gentle kisses on her forehead he spotted someone hovering at the door, not sure who it was through the drawn curtains he hoped they would wait for a few minutes, give them a final grace period.

His wish was fulfilled.

A knock at the door produced the stout figure carrying various pieces of paperwork, slowly releasing from their embrace he stood up at the bedside, making sure his hand never left hers. "Why don't you go and get some coffee or something," she suggested quietly, not wanting him to see her in any more pain or discomfort.

"Are you sure?" looking towards the other person in the room, he goes to grab his coat, "five minutes and I'll be back," smiling he kisses her hand before letting go. 

"Can you do something for me?" came the timid request, proceedings coming to a halt as she calculated her words, knowing the way the hospital worked, that every student going would be in the gallery, gawping at her as they cut away at her, knowing he'd be banished to the waiting room, forced to pace like a lion, unable to do anything but worry about her. "Shut the gallery, to everyone, except Derek," she waits for a response, hoping they'll allow her a good grace.

"You know relatives aren't allowed in the gallery, Addison, I can't," she continues to find a vein in her threadbare arms, cursing under her breath as she worked.

"Oh come on, Derek and I are hardly strangers to this place, I don't want him to be away from me, he knows what's going to happen, every gruesome detail. It's not going to change what he sees in his mind, please for me, this could go either way, I want him knowing as soon as you guys do," never in her life had she been forced to beg for something, lest on what could potentially be her last day on earth. Watching the woman slowly nod she relaxed.

"Ok, if it's what you want, then I'll grant you it, but Addison, you're going to make it, as a friend I have every faith, you're not about to give up hope."

"I'm not I just have to prepare myself, seven months I've been like this, I'm not giving up now I just have to be realistic, if you're finished can you go fetch Derek," clearing the mess she's created she motions to leave.

"They'll be taking you back in about ten minutes; I know you don't need it but good luck yeah?" a brief smile as she went through the door. Realising she was completely alone she lent her head back on the pillow, turfing the headscarf onto the pile of clothes in the corner, tears slowly prickling at her eyes.

"Get that angry in surgery and you'll make it," moving into the room he waits for her to say what's preying on her mind.

"I'm not angry Derek, I'm just upset, all I wanted for us was to be able to grow old together, spend time with just you and me, and now it may not happen." He keeps his distance, reassurance and smothering are two separate points on a line he's treading dangerously right now, one wrong move and she'll never forgive him.

"But we have, haven't we, we've had a good time, and we will…. After," the door begins to creek open as a porter wrangles a gurney through the tiny gap. Lifting the railings down from the bed he helps her down, giving her a hug, holding her for as long as they will give them. 

"I love you, do good in there," she wipes away the tear in his eye, slowly dragging their hands apart as they cross that red line. He waits till she goes out of sight and races to the gallery, slowly they prepare her, unveiling her gaunt body, attaching at the wires and machines she'll need to stay alive. He watches them drag the iodine filled sponge over what he's always kept as his, the drapes covering her are fixed in place, the tube in place, obscuring her face, her eyes shut, taped over, her head hidden under a cap. He realises it's the reason why no one recommends watching relatives being operated on, it hurts. Slowly they begin, opening the fifteen inch long incision.

The long battle begins. He starts to drift, his mind wandering to previous few months.  
_  
"It was only a palpation Richard, I've not been eating as much as I should have, honestly it's nothing,"_

"It's cancer Addy, you're not going to get away with it this time,"  
  
He notices Richard looking up at him, knowing how eyes bare the true extend of how the surgery is going and his paint a sorrowful picture. It brings back the most painful memory he has.  
_  
"Derek, I've not been straight with you recently, something is up"_

"Mark's back? Or worse, you're dying of some terrible disease," Looking up he feels sick to the pit of his stomach, slowly she sits down at the table, taking his hand slowly.

"Don't be mad, Richard found out about it a few weeks ago, it's a Leiomyomas soft tissue sarcoma, stage 3, it's originated in my intestines and has wrapped close to the vena cava, neither Richard nor Preston are willing to operate till I undergo chemotherapy, which I've started, they're easing me in gently, I'm going to be on a seven month programme, I stop work in a couple of days and need you're support, please don't be mad, don't pity me," it was too late, his eyes were stinging with tears, he squeezed her hand tightly, making an impression on her pallor skin. 

He takes a deep breath as they begin the resection, removing small lumps as they come undone, both surgeons working at once, bleeds frequent and unavoidable. He cannot concentrate on it for longer than five minutes without his mind wandering.  
_  
She'd been hospitalised for two weeks now, a raging fever refusing to budge, violent nausea drowning her body, she'd lost a stone this week, and given her track record it had been the worst yet. For the fifth night in a row he'd stayed off work during the day to sit with her, holding the kidney bowl for her as she wretched bile, the stinking green liquid, not drinking or eating anything. "why did it have to be me? Like this? A train wreck is simple," he'd gone home that night after she'd finally settled for more than half an hour, unable to hold it in any more he'd got drunk, so drunk he couldn't stop the uncontrollable tears, his heart ripped to shreds. But how had she felt?_

Suddenly his half asleep body shook violently awake, the intercom threatening painful sorrow as the machine's bleeped slower, without rhythm, "" being heard above the commotion. It was times like this he wished God hadn't taken such a hatred to him.


End file.
